


Scars

by aluinihi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Roy Mustang is a sap, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: Roy had no answers, no guide; only a feeling in his gut saying he was walking straight to potential harm. But he was curious and figured out it couldn’t end up in anything more than a few bruises.One letter led to another, then another, then another… Soon enough, Roy found out their interactions were a light scratch, over and over and so slow he barely noticed. It took him a while to realize the potential it had toscarhim.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this because sometimes you just need dorks being dorks and a bunch of fluff — it's pretty out of my comfort zone (angst) but worth a shot ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This was betaed by [@unicorngelato](https://twitter.com/unicorngelato)! 
> 
> English is not my native language, so please warn me of mistakes.

If a few months ago someone had told Roy he would be falling in love by the end of winter, he would have laughed it off only to go home and indulge in an awful lot of self-pity. _Love_ is the type of concept we only _think_ we can grasp — we truly believe we know on the first time, then on the second we realize that we really didn’t, and by the third, it is either giving up or succumbing to a series of misunderstandings. For Roy, it had always been so distant; an abstract idea floating around and drawing humans in like moths to the flames.

And if someone had told him it would be Edward Elric, he would have probably thrown up.

Their relationship had been turbulent at best — _edging murderous_ at worse — and anything beyond the realm of professionality came with an abundant set of impracticalities that never failed to give Roy a headache. _Friends_ was something that two years ago sounded like blasphemy, a gash on Roy’s self-respect.

Hence, when Edward’s first letter arrived — the typical scrawl, but with some sort of courtesy — it brought news Roy hadn’t known he needed. It took him a day to open it since he couldn’t help dancing around it, and then developing at least four new neuroses during the processes of tearing the envelope open. But when he did read it, he found an inexplicable sort of solace in the scribbled handwriting and each one of the sentences it formed. The paper seemed to have brought within its molecules some of Ed’s endearing obnoxious ways, and Roy tucked it inside his bedside table drawer so he could read it again whenever he felt like.

Which happened to be more often than he would have liked.

He mused on his response for a long time — perhaps if he thought too much, he would have an excuse to not answer at all. _Oh, Fullmetal, forgive me, I was too busy thinking of how to not sound eager to hear about you, because as you can see I am clearly not_. The idea of exchanging letters with Edward promised _something_ , unnamed, untamed, and, consequently, unpredictable — Roy wasn’t able to fully comprehend Edward himself, nevermind a friendship that could grow between them. Would it work? How would it be built? Would it be useful? Roy had no answers, no guide; only a feeling in his gut saying he was walking straight to potential harm. But he was curious and figured out it couldn’t end up in anything more than a few bruises.

One letter led to another, then another, then another… Soon enough, Roy found out their interactions were a light scratch, over and over and so slow he barely noticed. It took him a while to realize the potential it had to _scar_ him.

Even though he kept every single piece of paper Edward had managed to send him throughout his travels, Roy wouldn’t be able to point out when it had turned deadly — it wasn’t sudden like an accident, it didn’t feel like a turning point in his life. It was a series of faint, pint-sized changes, and by the end of three years, he couldn’t live without them. Realizing he had fallen for Ed felt natural, like an equinox in the seasons of his life.

Spring came, Edward Elric was back, and Roy Mustang took a train Friday afternoon.

He didn’t tell anyone — about the letters or how friendly those had become — because nobody is entitled to a secret. Especially one that meant so much, that was fragile just like anything that sprouts little by little. He hopped inside the wagon and jiggled his foot until he could see the dim lights of Risembool’s station.

They first kissed behind a large tree, hiding away from inevitable curious eyes and scowls, and Edward felt more real than most things in his life. Roy was not afraid of waking up, he was really damn sure this wasn’t just a dream — if it was, he would have already been startled awake by the loud beating of his heart. It couldn’t be; not when he could taste the warmth of Ed’s lips and thread his fingers through the silky blond hair, not when Edward kept tightening his arms every time Roy tried to pull away.

Roy ended up finding out that not letting go was just a way of asking him to stay.

Apparently, before Roy arrived the Rockbell residence was rather empty, its only inhabitants being Ed himself and Pinako. If the old lady thought anything of Ed bringing his former CO to the house, she didn’t voice it — simply told Roy to enjoy the weather and make himself at home. It felt like acceptance though, after she saw the two of them holding hands in the backyard and smiled.

Saturday was a lazy day, so lazy Roy kept mistaking it for a Sunday. Ed dragged him to get cheese with the neighbor, then took him to eat sandwiches by the river with the sun dripping through the treetops all over their skin. Edward was a better conversationalist than Roy remembered — he still jumped from one topic to the other a bit too easily and stumbled with whatever he was saying, but he also seemed to pick his words more carefully. This Edward was clearly the person whose letters Roy spent weeks waiting for, who wanted to talk and to listen, and acted as if every little thing had significance.

They held each other till the sky turned rosy orange, and then decided they weren’t afraid of the dark. Edward glowed under the sunset light — and so did his eyes when he smiled at Roy — so why move? The world was halted as long as they rested against each other, basking in the comfortable heat and the smell of earth and old trees. The earth could carry on, but Roy was stuck in this tiny bubble of peace and meaningful senseless words.

At some point, Edward decided that scrutinizing each part of Roy’s body was an acceptable pastime, and Roy had to sit there, enduring the prolonged stares and the occasional poking. That was certainly ranked among the most squirm-inducing, anxiety-triggering moments of Roy’s life, easily making to top 5, while at the same time being rather relaxing. The feather-like touch of Edward’s fingertips to his jaw made him shiver and he preened under the highly focused attention. Ed’s voice came almost as a surprise, cutting through their silence like a blade:

“You have nice clavicles.”

_Clavicles_ — and for some reason, Roy became very proud of a very specific part of his body.

“Thank you.” He smiled, deciding to ignore Ed’s technical wording for now. “If you’d allow me to say, I think your nose is adorable.”

For emphasis, he ran his index finger over the tip that turned slightly upwards — Edward grimaced.

“My _nose_ ,” he snorted. “You understand that noses are not attractive, right?”

“Yours is.”

“No, it’s crooked,” he said, “and you’re disgusting, though that’s not anything new.”

One could argue that Ed’s readiness to insult him at every given opportunity was a hindrance. Roy, however, would always take the side that found awfully endearing how quickly he could go from mesmerized with a piece of skin to that meaningless annoyance — a snap, and Ed lit up like a fireplace during winter.

“Crookedness has nothing to do with the standards of nasal beauty.”

“Bullshit, easy to say when _your_ nose isn’t crooked.”

“And you think my _‘clavicles’_ are nice, not my nose,” Roy grinned victoriously, “you further proved my point.”

He bopped Ed’s nose and reveled in the fact that he didn’t flinch, just frowned and rolled his eyes.

“That’s some shitty rhetoric you got there, how did you make it that far in politics?” 

“Let me tell you a secret,” he leaned in to whisper by Ed’s ear. “Most people aren’t half as smart as you.”

Roy could feel the resulting shiver for a satisfying but brief second before Edward was exclaimed _gross_ and shoved at his chest halfheartedly. It was easy to make him blush, and even if they only had a weekend Roy planned to take full advantage of that. He tugged the blond closer, glad to hear the soft sigh when their lips locked together once again.

With that, Roy just... _forgot_. About how the open wound on his heart couldn’t stop bleeding, and how terrible a gash that wide would eventually mark his skin. It was okay, maybe, because Ed had this funny face when trying to contain a smile and because of the bubbles inside Roy’s stomach and because they would go back home and fall asleep side by side and because they still had tomorrow—

_I suppose,_ Roy thought, _this will be another scar to the collection._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aluinihi) and [Tumblr](https://aluinihi.tumblr.com/)! Let's talk and stuff~
> 
> Also, if you'd like, you can [request a drabble](https://aluinihi.tumblr.com/ask).


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